


Our Ghosts

by The_neigh_sayer



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-01-24 11:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 16,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21337552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_neigh_sayer/pseuds/The_neigh_sayer
Summary: A little look into the life of adult Jack Marston after the killing of Edgar Ross.
Relationships: Jack Marston & Original female character, None
Comments: 15
Kudos: 30





	1. Prologue

He trudged back to the house, the farm chores now done. It was evening—he always hated this time of day because he knew it meant he had a long night of solitude and silence ahead of him. 

Jack turned to survey the land around him—his land. He thought many times about selling the farm. It held many bad memories for him; every time he entered the barn, those double doors seemed to mock him; the blood that had long since washed away but was still somehow there. But, where would he go, what would he do? This farm was all he’d known for the past seven years. He had no other family.

It had been six months since his mother had died, leaving him alone here at Beecher’s Hope. He still wasn’t used to it. He missed her with a fierceness he couldn’t believe; it left a dull ache in his chest.

He caught sight of an eagle overhead and his thoughts turned to his father. He wondered a lot what John would think of him now, if he’d be proud of him, of what he’d done after Abigail had passed. He knew his parents didn’t want him to be that kind of person, but, what choice did he have? 

He suddenly heard hoofbeats coming from the east, and every muscle in his body tensed, every hair on end. He was always waiting for the law to come after him; he honestly didn’t think he’d get away with killing Ross.

He hurried onto the porch and edged along the side of the house as the hoofbeats grew closer. He peeked around the corner and saw a figure that was familiar. It had been a few years, but he recognized the blond hair, the freckles on the face, the confident air about her. He stepped around the side of the house as she approached.

“Mrs. Adler?”

“Hey there, Jack.” She smiled at him. “How are you?”

“I’m good, Mrs. Adler. Surprised to see you.” 

She dismounted her horse and climbed the steps to the porch. He stood there, unsure of what to do. She stared at him and gave a chuckle. “Well, come here, then, and give me a hug!” 

He laughed, then encircled her with his arms, her head just below his chin. She stood back. “Wow, you’ve grown since I last saw you! How long’s it been, seven years or so?”

“Somewhere there abouts. Come on inside.”

She settled on the sofa while he came out of the kitchen with two cups of coffee. He handed her one, then sat in a chair next to her. “So, what brings you out this way? You chasing a bounty?”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, nothing like that, just wanted to stop in and say hi, see how you’re doing out here.”

He looked at her carefully. “Are you still bounty hunting?”

“No, I quit doing that a couple years ago. I started my own company, running security for gold mines. It’s doing pretty good.”

He smiled, revealing his relief. “Good, I’m very glad to hear that.”

She chuckled. “Why, you a wanted man, Jack Marston?” She took a sip of coffee. 

He looked down at his own cup in his hands. “Well, I might be. I, uh...shot...someone.”

She set her cup down. “Oh yeah? What, some rustlers try to take some cows or something?”

He gave a wry laugh. “Nah, not exactly.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um...I...shot Edgar Ross.”

She looked at him incredulously. “Really??” He nodded. She shook her head. “Well, I can’t say I’m upset. That bastard can rot in hell for all I care. After what them Pinkertons did to us, to the gang? Then what they did to you, your mama and daddy? Bastards, all of ‘em.” She regarded him curiously. “But, how do you feel about it? Are you okay about it?”

He thought for a moment. “I think so. I don’t know, I’ve never really thought about it. Been too worried I’ll get caught.”

“Well, I know a lotta people in that world, and I’d heard about Ross getting shot, but I’ve never heard your name or the name Marston in relation to it, so I think you’re safe.”

They were both quiet for a moment when she said, “So, wait. You thought I was still bounty huntin’ and you thought I was here to take you in?”

He chuckled. “It had crossed my mind, yeah.”

“Oh honey, listen, if you were a bounty, sure, I’d come ridin’ up here, but only to help you pack up and get the hell outta here. Jack, you’re pretty much the last thing I have left of anything close to a family. I couldn’t do that to you.” 

He smiled weakly. “Thank you, I appreciate that.” 

“Jack, the real reason I’m here is that I heard about your ma and pa and came to pay my respects. I was in shock when I first heard. I wanted to come when your father was killed but couldn’t get away. Then I heard about your mother and I came as soon as I could.” She leaned forward and placed a hand on his knee. “I am so, so sorry about your folks. If there’s anything you need—and I do mean ANYTHING—please let me know. I’m here for you.”

He swallowed back his tears. “Thank you, Mrs. Adler, that means a lot. I don’t have a whole lot of hope left to hang onto these days, you know? It’s been tough. Especially with the farm, all the memories around here. I just don’t know... I’ve kinda been thinking about selling it and moving away.”

She looked at him thoughtfully. “I can understand that, believe me. But, before you make any decision, make sure it’s the right one. Make sure you won’t regret it. I can understand the memories can be overwhelming, but there may come a time when you wish you still had those memories. Then you’ll wish you could look out at the barn and think you see your father feeding the animals, or walk into the kitchen and think you hear your mother’s laugh. Just, think it through, is all I’m saying.”

He wiped away the tears that had fallen without his knowledge. “Okay. I’ll do that. I understand what you’re saying. Thank you.”

She stood up and placed her hand on his shoulder. “You come from some of the strongest stock I’ve ever met. You’ll be okay.” 

She turned for the door. “I gotta be heading out. Come on, see me out.”

They headed out onto the porch, taking in the cool night air and the clear sky.

“And, in regards to Ross, don’t let it bother you. I don’t think you’re in any trouble; it looks like you got away with it.” 

“I hope you’re right. I don’t like the idea of living the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.”

“Oh you’ll be fine. Just keep your gun skills primed and ready.” She winked, then pulled him in for a hug. 

“You’re a good kid, Jack. You got guts. Don’t forget that.”

She mounted her horse and laughed. “It makes sense, you killing Ross, because your mama killed Milton.” 

He looked at her, shocked. “What?!” 

“They never told you? Oops, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.” She laughed, spurred her horse, and rode off into the night.


	2. Amelia

The late spring sun shone brightly overhead, a light westerly breeze kept a slight chill in the air. This was Jack's favorite time of the year; the trees leafing out, the flowers bloomed, and the weather sunny but not too hot. Certainly the best weather for heading into town for supplies. He flicked the reins once, the wagon wheels rolling ever closer to Blackwater. As he hit the outskirts of town he saw townspeople out and about, enjoying the fine weather; Mr. Brown, working on his claptrap wagon; Mrs. Collins, working on her garden. She gave a little wave and Jack tipped his hat in return. It really was a lovely day.

Jack brought the wagon to a stop next to the general store, consulting his mental list of items to buy. He jumped down from the seat, nodding to a passing stranger. He walked into the store, the bell on the door jingling.

The storekeeper looked up from his ledger. "Ah, Mr. Marston, how are you today?" 

Jack strode to the counter, removing his hat. "I told you, Mr. Simons, Mr. Marston was my pa. Call me Jack."

"Well, Jack, I think you'll be pleased to know we got that shipment of paper in you've been waitin' on."

"Sounds great, Mr. Simons." Jack had been doing a lot of writing lately and was running low on supplies. 

"I'll get you loaded up with your orders, you go ahead and keep looking around, see if there's anything else you might need." Mr. Simons headed out the door as two women walked in. Both very well dressed, perfectly coiffed. One was older than the other, he guessed her to be the mother of the younger one, who looked to be around Jack's age. Jack watched her from where he stood, taking note of her sparkling emerald eyes, full lips, glossy dark hair. He'd never seen someone so beautiful.

He suddenly became aware he'd been staring, both of them looking at him, the younger one regarding him with a sly smile. He averted his gaze, pretending to be very interested in some items on the shelf, none of which would even come into focus. He rolled his hat in his hands, trying desparately to wish himself invisible. "How are you, sir?" He jumped slightly at the voice next to him. He hadn't even noticed she'd approached him.

She was absolutely breathtaking up close. "Um, hello." He couldn't even meet her gaze, the heat rising in his face. What was wrong with him? 

She smiled, clearly noticing how flustered he was. "My name is Amelia. This is my mother, Greta Worthington. And you are...?" 

Jack tried to will his brain to function normally. "I'm sorry, miss. I'm Jack. Jack Marston."

"Well, Jack Marston, it's very nice to meet you. Do you live here in Blackwater?" 

"No, miss, I live just west of here, at Beecher's Hope. It's my farm. Just here picking up supplies."

"Oh, lovely. My mother and I have just come to visit family. We live in St Denis."

Her mother touched Amelia's elbow. "Come dear, we must get to Aunt Dorothea's house before nightfall."

Amelia rested her hand on Jack's shoulder. "Jack, it was lovely to meet you. Maybe we'll see each other again?" 

Jack swallowed hard. Her eyes were absolutely piercing. "Y-yes. I hope so," he stammered. 

She gave him a smile as she followed her mother out the door. Jack stood there, mouth agape, trying to process what just happened. 

As he finished his errands in town and made his way back to Beecher's, he couldn't stop thinking of the girl. Amelia. He'd never met someone so intriguing. But, chances were very slim he'd ever see her again. Best to put her out of his mind and forget about her.

He tried doing that over the next few weeks, trying to keep busy with the farm chores or his writing, but she was etched in his brain, unwilling to leave him alone. 

Nearly a month later it was time for another supply run to Blackwater. The usual stops--general store, feed mill, the saloon for the one extravagance he allowed himself: a nice, hot meal. He decided to stop at the post office and check the mail on his way back out of town. Not that he was expecting anything--who would write him? But, just in case.

There was one envelope. No name but the return address was St. Denis. He opened it to find an invitation to a garden party to be held in two weeks' time at the home of Jeremiah & Greta Worthington.

There was a handwritten note at the bottom of the parchment paper:

"Dearest Jack,  
Please do me the honor of being my guest to my parents' garden party. It will be a most boring affair, and I would love to have some interesting company.  
Sincerely, Amelia."

She actually wanted to see him. But a garden party? Amidst St. Denis' high society? How would he fit in there? He was a simple farmer raised by outlaws. Did he even have anything acceptable to wear? He had to admit, while he was nervous he was also very excited. The idea of seeing her again was putting a heat in his belly that was new to him. 

He got home and put away his groceries and supplies. He went to his room and looked in his wardrobe, wondering if he had anything suitable to wear to a fancy garden party. As he suspected, he didn't. Why would he? He'd never had a use for fancy clothes. He wondered if his pa had anything in his wardrobe.

After John died, Abigail couldn't bring herself to deal with any of his belongings. And after Abigail died, Jack never went into their bedroom, so it stayed pretty much as she left it, all of their clothing and things still there. 

As he entered their room, the mustiness of it hit him. He hadn't been in this room since his mother died nearly a year ago. He looked around, an intense sadness hitting him suddenly. His legs started to buckle, and he sat heavily on the bed. He put his head in his hands, wondering why he thought it'd be a good idea to come into their room. Thinking about his parents and how much he missed them would bring up waves of loneliness and despair that were almost too much to bear, so he tried to avoid it whenever possible.

He got up, wiping his eyes, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. He couldn't handle going through his father's things. He'd just have to go to the tailor and buy a suit.

He had planned on going to the tailor the next day, but things kept coming up on the farm that required his attention--a cow needed help delivering her calf; a racoon got into the chicken coop and killed half the chickens. It was always something. So it was a few days before he got the chance to go. He found a suit that he thought would do and, luckily, it only needed a couple small adjustments to fit him, and it would only take a day to do. 

Three days later he was on the train to St. Denis, wondering why he was really doing this. It seemed crazy--going to a different state to a party to see a girl he saw once in passing. But, she had a hold on him he couldn't shake and he couldn't figure out why. Or how. He just really wanted--needed--to see her again.

The train pulled into the station, whistle blowing, passengers getting up to disembark. He gathered his bags from the luggage car, and set off to find a coach to take him to the hotel. He would get a room, drop off his things, and head out into the city for a bit; the party wasn't for another five hours, so he had time to kill.

He'd only been to St. Denis as a child, so he didn't really remember it. Blackwater was the biggest town he'd been in, and this was a far cry from that. The sheer number of people took him aback. He'd never seen so many in one place. But the buildings in the historical side of town were really quite beautiful. He enjoyed walking around, just taking it all in.

He decided to stop at the barber on the way back to the hotel. He hadn't had a proper haircut in a long time, and it showed. The barber joked about the scissors in his house being broken. He decided on a right part fade, which made him look a lot like his father. He felt a pang at the memory. 

He got back to the hotel with an hour to get ready and get to the party. After a bath and changing into his new suit, he stood in front of the mirror in his room. "I clean up pretty good," he thought to himself. He could see both of his parents in his features, but mostly his father. He was very proud of that fact. He was proud to tell people that John Marston was his father.

He took note of the time, headed down the stairs and outside to find a coach. Fifteen minutes later it pulled up in front of the house--a large, stately home, dazzling with string lights twinkling against the night sky in the courtyard and finely dressed guests milling about. He felt beads of sweat pop up on his forehead, nerves settling in once again. He wasn't sure this was a good idea. He won't fit in; how well could it possibly go? Looking around at everyone he felt like a fraud.

He entered the courtyard, saying hello and nodding to guests as he passed. He meandered through the small crowd, eyes scanning the faces, when he saw her. She was standing near a fountain, talking to an older woman, wearing a beautiful gold gown, hair in a lovely up-do that left curls trailing on her neck. She was even more breathtaking than he remembered.

She saw him and smiled, her face lighting up. She excused herself from the woman and made her way through the crowd toward him. As they reached each other, she held her hand out. "Hello Jack, I'm so happy you came." He took her hand, kissed it, (he remembered that was what they did in those fairytale stories; that's what this felt like, afterall), and said, "Of course I came. I couldn't imagine not coming." She smiled at him, looking absolutely beguiling. "Come, let me introduce you around." 

They walked around, her hand in the crook of his elbow, naming off people as he said hello or introduced himself. It was all too much and he had a strange heady feeling, almost a buzz, even though he hadn't had a drop of drink. She led him into the house, where she introduced him again to her mother and to her father, a retired newspaper magnate who had owned the St. Denis Times. She gave him a tour of the house, which was quite magnificent. "Your parents have done quite well for themselves," he remarked. She laughed. "Well, my father certainly has. I'm not sure my mother had much to do with it." 

They wandered outside to the backyard. There were fewer people out there, so it was quiet. They walked over to a swing and sat down. "So Jack, tell me about your family."

He wasn't sure where to begin. He didn't have a very savory past. "Uh, well, I live alone on my farm. My father passed away almost four years ago, my mother passed almost a year ago. I had a baby sister, but she's passed also."

"Wow, so heartbreaking. I'm so sorry. So no aunts or uncles or anything?" 

"No, not really. My family's past is kind of...complicated. And, not to be rude, but, I don't really want to get into it. Please understand my reticence."

"No, no, it's fine, I completely understand. I don't want to push you into talking about anything that makes you uncomfortable."

He smiled at her. "Thank you, I really appreciate that."

He looked at her, realizing how at ease he felt all evening. And happy. Content, even. She looked up at him and smiled. "I've had a great time with you this evening, Jack. You make me feel...safe...somehow. I can't explain it."

He smiled. "Yeah, I understand. I've had a wonderful time tonight, I've enjoyed being with you." She laid her head on his shoulder as they slowly rocked in the swing. He couldn't recall a time that he was happier.

She reached up and kissed him on the cheek. He felt his face grow hot. She smiled slightly, then put her hand on his jaw, turning his face to kiss him tenderly on the lips. He returned the kiss, leaning into it, placing his hands on her face. The heat in his belly was back, growing up his chest and neck. Just then someone cleared their throat, breaking them apart suddenly, both jumping back. Her mother stood by the door, a slight smile on her face. "Come, you two. We're seeing our guests out. Time to say goodbye."

They stood up from the swing, his face red with embarrassment. Amelia grabbed his hand as they walked into the house. He looked at her and she was looking at him with a look he'd never seen before. Was it love? He wasn't sure. But he was feeling something akin to it, he was thinking.

They stood in the foyer as her parents said goodbye to everyone. He glanced around the room, noticing some family photos on the mantel. Amelia saw him looking at them and explained who was in them; various aunts and uncles; her parents when they were younger, and her grandparents. He picked one up, inspecting it closer. She saw he was looking at it and said, "That's my mother's parents. Rita and Edgar Ross. They were murdered about six months ago. My mother has had a very hard time coping with it.'

She looked at his face. "Are you feeling well, Jack? You look like you've seen a ghost."


	3. St. Denis

Jack looked up from the photo in his hand. "I...I'm sorry. Your grandfather just looked... familiar. Maybe I saw his picture in the newspaper or something." He set the photo back on the mantel. He could feel her eyes on him; he worried she didn't believe him. 

"Well, yes, it was in the papers. The police tried very hard to find the killer, but kept hitting dead ends. They're completely stumped." She watched him carefully. He tried to put a small smile on his face but felt he was failing at it. "I'm very sorry to hear about that. I hope they catch whoever did it."

"Of course, there's no shortage of people that could've done it.'" She sighed. "He used to work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency then moved to the Bureau. I'm sure there were a lot of very bad people that wanted to see him dead."

Jack saw the last guest was heading out the door and took that as his very welcome cue to leave. "Well, I suppose I need to be heading back to the hotel. Going back home in the morning. I haven't been away from home this long since...well, ever." He chuckled. "I had a really great time tonight. It was very enjoyable." His eyes darted around, trying to meet hers but unable to keep her gaze. 

They walked out into the courtyard, Jack lost in his thoughts. Amelia stopped and placed a hand on his arm. "Are you okay, Jack? You seem...distracted. Did I say something wrong?"

He grabbed her hand, holding it gently. "No, I'm sorry. I'm just lost in my own thoughts. You've been nothing but delightful this evening. Really, I've had a wonderful time. And I'd really love to see you again."

Her face brightened. "I'd love to, as well. We'll keep in touch." They held each other's gaze, and Jack lowered his face to hers and kissed her softly. "Good night, Amelia." 

She sighed lightly, a smile dancing on her parted lips. "Good night."

He left the courtyard & headed to the street to hail a coach, feeling a little dizzy, trying to process all that had happened.

The next morning, his bags packed, he went down to the saloon to get breakfast before heading to the train station. As he came down the stairs, he saw a familiar figure walk through the door. He stopped to watch her as she scanned the saloon. She was dressed much less extravagantly than last night, but was still stunning. She wore a white skirt, pink blouse, with her hair cascading down her back in long, dark curls, and carried a small gold clutch bag in her hands. She approached the bar, set her bag down, and climbed onto a stool.

Jack continued down the stairs and approached her. She heard his boots on the hardwood floor and turned to him. "Jack! There you are!"

"Amelia? What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you before you left town. I had such a nice time last night, I...missed you. I was hoping maybe we could spend a little time together before you left." She smiled at him, and he suddenly wished he could stay there forever. 

"Well, I'm sure there will be a train later today I could catch..."

She smiled, her face lighting up. "Wonderful! Well, what would you like to do?"

"I was coming down here to have breakfast before I left for the station. Unless you have something better in mind?"

She nodded. "I know the perfect place. Come on, it's only a few blocks away, we can walk."

He followed her out the door and onto the sidewalk, taking in the sights and sounds of the city. She saw the mixture of wonder and discomfort on his face and smiled. "You're not much of a city man, are you, Jack?"

He looked at her and shook his head. "Is it that obvious? I'm definitely a country boy. You know, I'd been to St Denis when I was little, but don't remember it. Blackwater's the biggest city I've been to. There are too many people here, too busy. I much prefer a quiet country life."

She was looking at him, not realizing she was stepping into the street, right into the path of an oncoming trolley car. He grabbed her, one hand on her arm, the other on her waist, and pulled her back. She ended up in his arms, her hands on his shoulders, faces mere inches apart. He froze, feeling her breath on his face. She moved her hands up to the back of his head, and pulled him down for a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist and she melted into him. After several moments they pulled apart, breathless, faces flushed.

He smiled. "Maybe we should keep moving? Where was this place you're taking me?" 

She laughed. "Yes, you're right. Let's go." She pulled him by the hand down the street.

They arrived at a small cafe beside the park, ordered some food and coffee, and sat at a small table outside. 

While they ate, the conversation came easily. They were both at ease with each other, and he was always making her laugh. 

Soon, the conversation was steered toward their families. "So, Jack, when are you going to tell me about your family?" He looked at her and thought about what to reveal. He didn't want to scare her off--he really liked her. So he decided to be as vague as possible--no names, no mention of Pinkertons. "Okay, well, like I mentioned my parents are passed as well as my baby sister. I don't know a whole lot about my grandparents. I know my father's mother died when she gave birth to him and his father died when he was eight. He was in and out of orphanages, always running away. When he was twelve he was accused by some farmers of stealing and was about to be hanged when he was saved by a couple of men who took him in. They took in a few misfits over the years and formed a gang of outlaws, though the leader didn't necessarily see it that way. He saw it as fighting against civilization, which to him was just nothing but greed. At some point my mother, who was a former prostitute, came into the gang and that's how they met. Then I came along. A few years later the gang sort of fell apart and my parents and me fled. We travelled a lot for several years, then in 1907 my parents finally settled down at Beecher's Hope. That's about the long and short of it."

She was completely taken in by his story. "Wow, that sounds pretty intense. Your parents had a pretty tough life."

He nodded. "Yeah, and that's just the stuff I know about. I know there's a lot more they kept me in the dark about. But, there at the end they had really tried to turn their lives around and be good, decent people."

Her eyes were soft with compassion. "So, how did your parents die? If you don't mind me asking."

He held her gaze, debating on what to say. "My father, apparently his past caught up with him. He was...shot...by lawmen. In front of the barn. When he'd done nothing wrong. They just showed up and...murdered him." He paused to collect himself, looking down at the table. "And my mother was sick. Not sure with what. After my father died she just sort of...withered away. Stayed inside, refused to go out. It was terrible. She was completely lost and heartbroken."

"Oh Jack, I'm so sorry." She placed her hand on top of his and grasped it. "Your parents didn't deserve any of that. YOU didn't deserve any of that. That is so horrible."

He cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure there are people who would argue they did deserve it, all because of their past. But, what they don't understand is that people actually can change. And do. People shouldn't be persecuted because of their past."

Amelia stood up and went around to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. "You're absolutely right. People can change. And some people learn from their past, from their mistakes. I'm sorry your parents weren't given that chance." 

He patted her hands. "Thank you for saying that. I really appreciate it."

She stood up straight. "Let's go for a walk around the park."

He smiled weakly. "Let's do it."

They walked leisurely around the park, arm-in-arm, wandering, no real destination. He was glad to get that talk about his parents out of the way. He had left out details, but they weren't very important. Other than, of course, her grandfather had orchestrated the kidnapping of his mother and himself, and the eventual killing of his father. He didn't see ever being able to tell her that. 

They wandered out onto the sidewalk, heading back to the hotel. As they walked under the overhang out front, she stopped and placed a hand on his chest and looked up into his eyes. "This has been an incredible couple of days." She looked at him, searching his face. "Jack, I've never felt like this before. I feel so at ease with you, like I can tell you anything. I trust you completely. This is so new to me."

Jack looked at her, taking in the sight of her; eyes moving from her eyes, to her hair, to her perfect mouth. "I feel the same way. Exactly the same. And, to be honest, I...don't really want to leave. Not yet, anyway."

Amelia looked at the hotel door, then looked back at him, a smile playing at her lips. "You still have your room, right?"

He looked at her, puzzled. "Yes."

She grabbed him by the hand, pulling him toward the building. "Come with me." 

"Wait, where are we going?"

"Just follow me."

They climbed the stairs, hand-in-hand. As they got to his room door she stopped, turned, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed him. "Let's go on inside." She tilted her head and smiled at him. 

He followed her in, unsure of where this was going. 

She sat on the bed and patted next to her, motioning for him to sit down, which he did. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek, turning his face to her. "Jack, have you ever made love?" She could tell by the shocked look on his face he had not. The fact that he had no idea that was why she wanted to bring him up here was the most endearing thing about him. 

"Uh, n-no. I haven't." His face was now ten shades of red, and she loved it. 

She smiled coyly at him, eyes half-lidded. "Well, let me show you what you've been missing..."


	4. The Visit

Jack awoke, late afternoon sun filtering through the window and falling across the bed. He looked over and saw her, sleeping, hair fanned out on her pillow, bare shoulders showing above the sheet. She looked angelic like this. He thought back to what they'd done and smiled. He reached over and caressed her cheek with his hand, running his thumb across her lips. 

She smiled and slowly opened her eyes. "Well, hello there."

He smiled back, hand still on her cheek. "Hello yourself."

She stretched, causing the sheet to fall, exposing her breasts. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her, and felt a stirring in his groin. She saw his look, took his hand from her face and placed it on her breast. He obliged her by swirling his fingers around her nipple, rolling it around in his fingers, and squeezing. She closed her eyes and moaned. He trailed his fingers down her belly, feeling her soft skin, making her wiggle beneath his hand, then down between her legs, brushing against her hair, lightly rubbing her folds. She gasped, thrusting her hips upward, aching for his touch. He ran his fingers back up her belly, across her breasts, then to her face, pulling her to him and kissing her passionately. 

She ran her hands through his hair, giving a little tug. Her hands wandered down his back, digging her nails in, making him hiss against her mouth--he was already scratched up from their earlier session. 

He brought himself upward, dropping the sheet off of them so they were both completely exposed. They drank in the sight of each other--she on her back, he on his knees above her. Watching his face, she slowly spread her legs, giving him access. He settled between them, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against her folds, slicking it up. He learns quickly, she thought to herself. She had showed him some things before, and she was about to find out how much he remembered.

He paused and looked at her. "You ready for me?" 

She answered by thrusting her hips up, pushing him further into her folds. He thrust forward, pushing in the rest of the way, causing them both to gasp. He started off slow, taking it easy. He wanted to be gentle with her, she was too beautiful to hurt. Especially like this. He kept his eyes on her the whole time, feeling pride in bringing her such ecstasy. He leaned forward and kissed her passionately, then moved down to her neck, sucking and nipping at it, her hands in his hair. He moved down to her breasts, taking one into his mouth and sucking. She moaned and arched her back. "Oh God, Jack!" She gasped. His thrusting sped up, and he reached down to work her clit, his free hand on her hip, keeping her close to him. They were both fast approaching their climaxes, and before they knew it, it hit them both like a speeding train. Fingers dug into flesh, teeth bared, sweat rolling, moans filled the air. 

His thrusting slowed and stuttered to a stop as he emptied himself. He gently laid on top of her, encircling her in his arms, resting his head on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his head. 

They laid like that for a while, until their breathing slowed and sweat had dissipated. He was still inside her, though neither seemed to care or notice. He sat up and they just looked at each other, basking in the afterglow.

Suddenly his brow furroughed. "You've been gone all day, do you think your parents are worried about you?" 

She smiled. "I'm an adult, Jack. They know I can take care of myself." 

He chuckled. "You certainly seem to be able to." She laughed and kissed him. "I probably should be going, though. They could be wondering where I am. Wouldn't want them to come looking for me and find me in this state." She winked at him.

"No ma'am, definitely not." He got up, finally pulling out of her, causing her to suck in her breath. He stopped. "Are you okay?" She smiled. "I'm perfectly fine, honey." He reached down and kissed her, then got up and began getting dressed. She sat up and watched him for a minute. She had had a couple of lovers before, but they weren't anything like him. He was attentive, gentle, and seemed to genuinely care about her. He noticed she was watching him and stopped. "What?" 

She laughed. "Nothing. Just revelling in the moment. Thinking how lucky I am to have found you." 

He looked confused. "Really?"

She stood up and walked over to him. "Yes. You're such a gentleman. You seem to actually care about me. About my feelings. That's kind of rare." She placed a hand on his face. "Plus you're so handsome." He lowered his face and kissed her, reaching down, grabbing her ass, and squeezing. 

She laughed against his kiss. "We have to stop, I really do need to be going."

"Well then put some clothes on, woman!" He watched her with a smirk, feeling the heat pooling in his groin again. 

When they were both finally dressed, it was evening, and he walked her out to the front of the hotel. They stood on the sidewalk, hand-in-hand.

"I guess I should be getting back home. There's no one there to take care of the animals. Not to mention the possibility of cattle rustlers."

She looked sad. "Are you leaving tonight?" 

"I think so, if there's a train running." He sighed. "I'm really going to miss you. I'll try to be back as soon as possible."

"Or I could come visit you! I'd love to come see your farm."

He smiled. "That'd be great."

He pulled her to him, feeling her warmth, then reached down and kissed her. They finally pulled apart, she gave him a little smile, then walked to the street to hail a coach. When she was finally out of sight, he went up to his room, gathered his things, and headed to the train station. 

He arrived in Blackwater around midnight and caught a coach to Beecher's Hope. Once home, he entered the front door, dropped his bags, went to his room, and collapsed on his bed, exhausted. He was immediately asleep. 

He woke the next morning, still thinking about the previous day, about her. She was definitely something. He went about his chores of the day with her constantly on his mind. Remembering her eyes, her hair, her lips; her smile, the way she walked, the feel of her skin, her taste, the feel of her body next to his. It was almost too much to bear.

As the days went by and the farmwork continued, he wondered when he'd be able to see her again. Should he send her a letter? Or just surprise her with a visit?

The choice was made for him when, a few days later, as he was feeding the chickens, a coach came up the driveway. He set the bag of chicken feed down and walked toward the house to meet it, curious about who could be aboard. As it neared the house, he heard a familiar voice from within calling out his name. When it came to a stop, the door opened, and Amelia appeared, looking as beautiful as ever, a huge smile on her face. She ran to him and they threw their arms around each other. "Jack, I'm so happy to see you, I've missed you so much!"

He drew back out of the hug and kissed her. "I've missed you, too. It's only been, what, a couple of weeks?" He chuckled.

"Yes, but it's felt like years!" She laughed, then kissed him again. 

"Excuse me, miss, where do you want these?" The driver was standing there, a suitcase in each hand and a third under his arm. 

Jack pointed to the front door. "Oh, inside the house, sir. I'll show you."

As he led the driver to the house, with Amelia at his side, he turned to her and asked, "Why so many bags, you moving in with me?" 

She giggled and elbowed him. "No, silly. These are holding all my necessities. A woman has to be prepared for every eventuality." She hooked her arm around his as they walked.

"If you say so. So how long are you planning on staying?" They entered the house and the driver set the bags by the door. Jack paid him, and he left. They walked into the living room and sat down on the couch together.

"Well, I was thinking maybe a week? If that's okay with you?" She grabbed his hand and held it. 

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "A week is fine, though it may not be long enough." 

She smiled at him. "You may be right about that."


	5. Some Time Together

Jack stood up from the couch. "Well, I was in the middle of my chores and should probably get them finished." Amelia stood and said, "how about a tour of the farm, first? Then I'd love to help you afterwards." He nodded. "Okay, let me show you around."

He showed her around the house, stopping in every room, pointing out various things, but when they got to the door outside the kitchen, he stopped. "This was my parents' room. I don't really go in there."

"Why not?" She asked.

"Well, it's kind of...difficult. I guess I'm not really...over it...yet."

She took his hands in hers. "Oh, I understand. We don't need to go in there, it's fine. Come, show me the animals." 

He led her outside, showing her all of the animals, barn, and chicken coop. "So, nothing fancy, just a dirty old farm." He smiled. 

She nodded, looked around, and said, "Okay, so what do you want me to do? Granted I don't have a lot of experience with farm animals--well, none really--but I'd love to help however I can. "

"Well, you can maybe feed the chickens and gather eggs, if you're comfortable doing that. It's pretty easy." He showed her where the feed was kept, and what to do with the eggs, then went about mucking out the barn. He got so busy and lost track of time that he didn't realize that she'd finished that job and started doing things on her own--watering the animals, brushing down the horses, and even hauled a couple of feed bags to the barn. 

He looked up from milking his second cow, impressed. "Wow, you're doing really well. Getting the hang of it, I think. We'll make you a rancher's wife yet." It was out of his mouth before he realized it and he blushed at the implication. 

She smiled. "Jack Marston, I hope that wasn't your idea of a marriage proposal."

He laughed, maybe a little too loudly. "No no no, nothing like that. I--I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that." He fumbled around, cursing himself for his stupidity, and she just giggled. "Jack, you are just too cute." 

He shook his head. "I'm glad you think so. I think I'm just a fool." 

She took his hand. "Well, maybe. But, you're my fool." She reached up and gave him a quick kiss. "So, what other chores need to be done?"

He motioned at the cow behind him. "None, this was my last cow to milk. Just let me put these jugs up and we're free for the rest of the day." 

She walked to the porch as he put the milk jugs away in the barn. She stood there, looking around. As he walked up he noticed the look on her face. "What are you thinking about?"

She smiled at him. "I'm thinking about what a nice place this is. It's so completely different from St. Denis, and BETTER. Clean air, quiet, not a lot of people just milling about. I can see why you love it so much."

He laughed. "Exactly. That's why I'm a country boy. You're catching on!" 

She put her arms around his waist and pulled him to her. "This seems to be a really nice place to live. I really like it."

He looked at the house thoughtfully. "I was actually kinda thinking about selling." 

She pushed back, frowning at him. "What? Are you serious? You don't like it here? This is your home."

"It is, yes. It's the only real home I've ever had. But, sometimes the memories can be too much. Amelia, I watched both of my parents die here. It keeps me up at night sometimes. I just can't stop seeing them."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug. "I'm so sorry, Jack. That must be just awful. If you want to talk about it or anything, I'm a really good listener." 

He gave her a smile, though she could still see his heartbreak. "Thank you, I appreciate that."

He cleared his throat and drew in a breath, ready to change the subject. "Come on, let's go into Blackwater, get some supper, what do you say?" 

She smiled. "Sounds lovely. Just let me get cleaned up real quick and I'll be ready." She disappeared into the bathroom and he heard water splashing. He went outside to ready the horses and bring them up to the house. He waited outside for her, and when she came out of the house, she had changed into a lovely yellow blouse and brown pants. He'd never seen her in pants before. 

She noticed the look on his face and placed her hands on her hips. "What? Don't tell me you don't approve of women wearing pants?"

He shook his head, as if to clear it. "No, no, nothing like that. Just haven't seen you in pants. You look good. Well, great, actually." 

She smiled and mounted her horse. "Thank you, Jack. Now, where are we going?"

They had dinner in a small restaurant, then took a walk around the lake as the sun set. She had only been to Blackwater a couple of times, so he pointed out all the familiar landmarks. They walked out onto the pier, and leaned against the railing, her arm hooked around his, her head resting on his shoulder.

"This is a good place, Jack. I really like it here." 

He smiled down at her. "Ready to go back home? I mean, Beecher's Hope."

She gave him a peck on the cheek. "Yes, let's go."

Once back at Beecher's, Jack brought a cot out of storage and set it up in the living room while Amelia got ready for bed in the bathroom. She came out in a white nightgown, not revealing, but it still made heat settle in Jack's belly.

She frowned. "What are you doing?"

"Well I thought I'd sleep here and let you take my bed."

"Oh. I was kind of hoping we'd be together. In the same bed."

He looked down. "I assumed you wouldn't be comfortable doing that."

She chuckled and placed a hand on his arm. "Jack, do you not remember what we did a couple of weeks ago?" 

He blushed and smiled. "How could I forget?"

Smiling, she took him by the hand and led him to his room.


	6. The Truth

Jack awoke the next morning, surprised to find himself alone in bed. He got up, got dressed, and walked out to the living room, where he found Amelia, sitting in a chair with a book and a cup of coffee. She looked up and smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning." He walked over and gave her a kiss. "Made some coffee, huh?" 

"Yep, hot and fresh." She turned back to her book. 

He headed out to the outhouse, then went over to the campfire to fill his coffee cup. He stood there for a minute, looking around, waking up. As he stretched, he heard the back door close. Turning, he saw her approaching, and he admired how she looked so perfect so early in the morning. He barely even felt human this early. 

He noticed she still carried the book in her hand. "Good book?"

She sat on the crate he stood next to. "It is. Looks like it's someone's journal. And then further into it the handwriting changes. Do you know whose it is?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, it was my uncle Arthur's, then my dad did some writing in it after Arthur died."

She flipped through the pages. "There's some interesting stuff in here. About Pinkertons. There's one entry he says he took Jack fishing and ran into Agents Ross & Milton. Was that you? And my grandfather?"

Jack stared into his coffee cup. "It was me; I was only four, I don't remember it."

She flipped to another page. "And there's another entry here that says Abigail killed Agent Milton. Who's Abigail?"

"Abigail was my mother." He rubbed the edge of his cup with his finger, doing whatever he could to avoid eye contact.

She watched him for a moment, then closed the journal. "Jack, it seems like there's something you're not telling me."

He looked up at her, meeting her gaze. He wondered how much he should tell her. How serious was their relationship? He didn't want to lose her if this was going somewhere. But it was also best to get it all in the open now. He didn't want keep the truth from her or lie to her. 

He sat down on the crate beside her, set his coffee cup on the ground, took her hands in his, and said, "Amelia, listen to me. I'm going to tell you some things that are disturbing. Whatever you want to do after I tell you, I will completely understand. But I want to be completely honest and open with you. No lies, no secrets. Okay?"

Her voice was small and still. "Okay."

He drew a breath and told her everything he knew. The words poured out of his mouth unbidden. Everything about the gang, the Pinkertons, the Bureau, and how they kidnapped him and his mother, forcing his father to hunt down the remaining gang members, and then gunned him down in cold blood, resulting in Jack hunting down Edgar Ross. He didn't leave out anything. 

When he'd finally finished, he realized at some point the tears had started flowing, and he wiped his face, emotionally drained. He snuck a look at her, and she was staring off into the distance, her face pale. 

He gave her a minute and when she hadn't moved, he said, "Amelia? Please say something."

She finally looked at him, a disconnected look in her eye. She stood and walked to the house as if in a trance. He stood up and tried to grab her arm, but she shook him off, then trotted to the house. He stood there, closed his eyes, and hung his head. 

Now what?

He walked to the house, and searched for her, finding her in his room, packing her bags. He stood in the doorway and watched for a moment. "So, you're leaving?"

She continued packing, avoiding looking at him. "I need a ride to the train station. Please. I'm going home." Her voice was cold, distant.

"Shouldn't we talk about this?"

"I can't talk to you. Not right now. I need time to process this. Please take me to the train station."

"Amelia, I love you."

She stopped and looked at him, tears springing to her eyes. "Don't. Don't do that. Not now. Just--please--take me to the station." The tears were rolling down her cheeks now.

His heart broke. How could he have let this happen?

"Okay. I'll go get the wagon ready."

After bringing the wagon up to the house, she stood on the porch while he grabbed her bags. She walked past him and climbed up on the seat before he could offer her a hand. He climbed up and sat beside her. She looked straight ahead, jaw set, and wiped the tears from her face. They rode to Blackwater in silence.

At the train station he put her bags on the platform for the porter. She went to the window and purchased her ticket, then stood on the platform, her back to him. When the train rolled in he watched her board and take her seat, then watched as it rolled back out. She never looked back.

He drove back to the farm, heart aching.

He figured it was over, that he'd never see her again, so he tried to keep himself busy to forget about it. It didn't help; she never left his mind. He went about his chores autonomously, only thinking of her. The days passed with no contact from her. Two days turned to a week; two weeks turned to a month; one month turned to two. No word from Amelia.

Finally, after yet another sleepless night, he went into Blackwater and caught a train to St. Denis. He needed to know where they stood; he at least wanted closure. 

As the train rolled into the station he was up and heading for the exit before it even came to a stop. He grabbed a coach right outside the station and headed straight for her house. 

The coach pulled up out front, he paid the driver, and hopped out. As he walked quickly up to the front door, it opened, and her mother stepped out, closing it behind her. He stopped on the steps. 

"I'm sorry, Jack, she told me she doesn't want any company."

"Hi Mrs. Worthington. I'm sorry to show up uninvited like this, but I really need to see her. I need to know what's going on. With us. Please. I need to see her." His voice shook.

She spread her hands in a shrug. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to--" Just then the door behind her opened, and Amelia stepped out. "It's okay, Mama. I'll talk him."

Mrs. Worthington sighed. "Okay. Just be careful." She gave her a knowing look, then went back inside.

Jack slowly climbed the remaining steps onto the porch and stood opposite Amelia. She regarded him cautiously, her arms crossed protectively in front of her. "Jack, what are you doing here?"

"Amelia, I need you to know--I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you so much. I can't sleep. I can't eat. Nothing matters anymore. Only you. I don't know what to do. Please. I'm so so sorry for everything. I wish I could change what happened, believe me."

She turned and sat on a bench on the porch, putting her face in her hands and crying. His heart broke even more at the sight of her. He did that. Why did this all have to happen? Why did he have to meet her, to kill Ross, to lose his parents, to be born to outlaws? Why?

He sat next to her. "Amelia, I'm so sorry. I wish I knew the right things to say, but that's all I got. I'm sorry." He stared at his hands.

She wiped her face and sniffled. "I understand, Jack. I'm sorry too. I just needed time to comprehend...everything. Everything you told me was a lot to take in, and since then there's been other things going on. It's just been a lot."

"What else has happened? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just..." she paused and looked at her hands in her lap. "Jack, I'm pregnant."


	7. The Promise

Jack froze, thinking he must have heard her wrong. He looked up at her. "I...you're...pregnant? Are you sure?"

She nodded, still looking at her hands in her lap. "Yes. I've been to the doctor."

He stared off, eyes glazing over, trying to comprehend this news. He cleared his throat. "And it's...mine?"

Her head shot up, eyes flashing. "Of course it's yours! You're the only man I've been with in a long time, Jack."

He dipped his head. "Okay, I'm sorry, I believe you." He glanced around, uncomfortable. "So, uh, what do we do now?"

She sighed and rubbed her face. "I honestly don't know. I really don't."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Jack watching her. Suddenly he said, "we could get married."

She looked at him, searching his eyes. "Is that what you want?"

The more he thought about it, the more he wondered why he hadn't asked her sooner. "Amelia, I love you. I've already told you that, and I meant it." He grabbed her hands and held them. "Yes. Yes, that's what I want. Let's get married. Marry me. Please."

She laughed and looked down. "I love you, too, Jack."

He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly at first, then more passionately. They pulled back after a minute, looking at each other, processing everything. 

"So, have you told anyone? Do your parents know?"

She shook her head. "I haven't told anyone but you. It's been killing me, my mom and I are really close, so not telling her has been hard. But I think this news would be hard on both my parents."

He nodded. "What about everything else? Everything I told you before? Have you talked to anyone about that?"

She looked at him earnestly. "Of course not. Jack, I understand the past is done, I can't hold anything against you for that. I am still a little shaken about...you know. But, I think I understand why you did it. You've been through a lot, and I could never hold it against you."

He drew a deep breath and let it out with a relieved chuckle. "Thank you. I appreciate that more than you know. I thought I'd lost you forever because of that. And I want you to know--I'm not that kind of person, I promise. My father was--I'm not. I just felt I had to do it for him. He'd earned his redemption and was denied it. I had to square that for him, and for my mother. They deserved that much."

She put her hand on his. "I understand, Jack, I do. I knew my grandfather could be a harsh man, but, I didn't know just how harsh. I'm sure there are a lot of...questionable things he did, hiding behind his title and the government."

He nodded and looked up at her. "So, you never answered my question. Will you marry me?"

After a beat she smiled. "I'll marry you, Jack." 

He put his hands on her face, pulling her head to him and kissing her on the forehead, then rested his forehead against hers. "We'll get through this together. I promise. Everything will be alright."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "Thank you, Jack. I need your strength right now because--" She pulled back and looked at him, "--I have to tell my parents. I have no idea how they'll react."

He took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm ready. I'm here for you. We're in this together."

Her mother was much more supportive than her father. When they'd told them the news of the pregnancy and impending marriage her father thundered that she was a disgrace to the family and stormed out. Her mother apologized, explaining he didn't mean what he'd said, that he just has to come to terms with his baby girl growing up and moving on. She was almost excited about the prospect of a wedding to plan and a coming grandchild. 

Jack spent the night at a hotel in the city and got very little sleep. The day's events just kept rolling through his mind. He couldn't believe Amelia was actually pregnant. He'd never really thought about having kids--he'd never even had a girlfriend before, so kids just never crossed his mind. He was terrified of the thought, but also a little excited, if he was honest. He now found himself in the same situation as his father; the irony of it made him chuckle. 

The next morning he returned to the Worthington residence to find Amelia having breakfast with her mother. He sat at the table with them as her mother poured him a cup of tea. 

"We were just talking about the wedding, Jack." Her mother said as she sat back in her chair, smoothing her skirt. 

Amelia shot her mother a look. "Yes and I've told my mother that I don't want a big affair. Nothing flashy, a few close friends and family, and that's it. How do you feel about it, Jack?"

He took a sip of the tea. "Honestly, I haven't thought about it. I'll defer to your judgement, I think. Whatever you want to do is fine with me."

Her mother waved her hand at him. "Oh dear, he's a typical man, he doesn't want to be involved in such matters. We can handle this just fine ourselves. Now, I can get in touch with the florist, we'll need to figure out what flowers we want, and see when the reverend and the church will be available. The church can easily seat two hundred guests, you know--" 

"Mama, no! I want it small and simple. And, honestly, I don't think I want it in a church." She looked at Jack. "What do you think about having it at Beecher's Hope?" 

Jack looked up from his cup. "At the farm, really? Well...actually...I think that sounds wonderful. That's where my parents were married, you know."

Amelia smiled and grasped his hand. "That settles it. It'll be at Beecher's Hope. Now we just need to figure out when. And I'll need to get a dress and you need a suit." She turned back to her mother. "Now Mama, I mean it when I say close friends and family only. Immediate family members. No cousins. No friends of friends. Okay?"

Her mother held up her hands, defeated but accepting. "Okay, okay, I get it."

Just then her father came in through the front door and stopped when he saw them at the table. "What's going on here?" He glared at Jack. 

Mrs. Worthington jumped up and went over to him. "Dear, we were just discussing the wedding--" 

"No!" He thundered. "I will not allow this...sham to happen. Not to my little girl!"

Mrs. Worthington placed a hand on his arm to calm him and tried to gently push him from the room. "Calm down dear, please."

He pushed her hands away. "No. I won't hear of this. I will not allow this to happen. And you!" He pointed at Jack. "I want you out of my house now!"

Amelia stood up. "Daddy, you're being unreasonable."

Mr Worthington strode over to her, closing the gap between them in only two strides. "And as for you, young lady, you will not talk back to me. You have been allowed too much freedom your whole life, and this is the result. Well, things are about to change around here. You are NOT marrying this...farmer and that's final!" He practically spat out the word farmer, and Amelia was seeing red.

"Daddy, whether you like it or not, I love him. I am pregnant with his child and we are getting married. Whether you accept it. Or. Not." She bit off the last few words, hands on her hips, practically nose-to-nose with him. 

They stood there, fuming at one another, while her mother stood in the background, wringing her hands, and Jack still sat at the table, frozen. 

Mr. Worthington pointed in her face. "I've had enough of this. He is leaving now! And you are to march up to your room right now!"

Amelia stared defiantly, hands on her hips. "If he goes, I go."

He threw his hands up. "Then go!" He roared, then stormed out of the room and up the stairs, Mrs. Worthington on his heels. 

Amelia turned to Jack, her face red, eyes brimming with tears. He jumped up and put his arms around her. "Are you okay?" She crumpled into his arms and broke down, unable to answer. He just held her for a few minutes, till she pulled back, wiping her face. "I'm sorry. I'm okay. He's just so stubborn sometimes. Guess that's where I get it from." She gave a weak smile and he brushed her hair back and tucked it behind her ear. He cupped her face in his hands, then gently kissed her. He looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

She sniffled. "It's okay. I think my mom was right, he'll come around. Now, I need to go pack."

She packed a few bags and Jack carried them out. Her mother came outside while they waited for a coach. "Dear, I'm sorry for what your father said. You don't have to go."

Amelia smiled at Jack. "No, I want to. I want to be with Jack." She wrapped her arm around his. 

Her mother smiled. "I understand. We'll discuss the wedding later." They hugged as the coach pulled up.

Jack gave the bags to the driver, then turned to Amelia. "You ready?"

She smiled at him. "Let's go home."


	8. Old Things Become New

Jack and Amelia arrived at Beecher's Hope that evening, both exhausted from the journey and the day's events. Jack dropped her bags in his room then went into the living room, where she had taken a seat on the couch.

"I'll make us something to eat real quick. You just sit there and rest."

"You can cook, Jack?" She asked, bemused.

"Don't look so surprised. I am a bachelor, afterall. Or, was. I've had to learn some things to fend for myself. It won't be anything fancy, but, it's still sustenance." 

While he was in the kitchen Amelia busied herself with tidying up the house. Even though he'd said for her to rest she couldn't sit still while he doted on her. She wasn't that kind of person. 

A while later he came out of the kitchen carrying two plates and was surprised to find the house much cleaner than it was before he'd gone in. "Well, you've been busy," he said as he placed the plates on the table. "Why didn't you rest a while? Take it easy?" 

She waved a hand absentmindedly. "I'm fine, Jack. I don't want to sit idly by while you work. Makes me feel useless."

"Okay, I just don't want you to overdo it." He took a bite of stew.

"Jack, I'm fine. I'm only two months along. Don't worry about me."

They ate their dinner, quietly going over the day's events. Once finished, he cleared the table while she got washed up for bed. She was already in his bed, in her nightgown, reading a book by the time he entered his room to go to bed. She smiled and put her book away when he walked in, and patted the space beside her. "Come join me. It's a small bed, but it'll do."

He smiled and climbed under the covers with her. He pulled her to him and she rested her head on his chest, his arms wrapped around her.

She sighed contentedly. "This isn't half bad, you know?"

He chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest that gave her goosebumps. "Yeah, it's okay." He hugged her tighter to him. They were both asleep before they knew it.

They spent their first week together getting settled in, setting routines, and getting used to each other. One day Jack was passing his parents' bedroom when he saw Amelia standing by the bed through the open door. He stepped inside. "What are you doing, honey?" 

She looked around the room then at him. "Jack, this room is so much bigger than yours. We need this space. And this bed? Your bed is only a twin. It's much too small, even just for you. Why don't we move into this room? It's a waste of space, just not being used."

She could see him hesitate and could tell he was uncomfortable. She crossed the room to him, placing a hand on his arm. "Jack, I know this is difficult for you. But, logically, it makes sense for us to use this room. We need the space. And your room would be a perfect baby room."

He placed a hand on hers. "I know, you're right." He looked around the room. "It's just a lot of memories to take in. Just give me some time to get used to the idea. I'll be okay."

She gave him a hug. "And if you want, I'll go through the wardrobe and get rid of your parents' clothes. If you're okay with that, of course."

He looked at the wardrobe. "Well, it's not really fair for me to ask you to do that by yourself. I can help."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

He smiled at her. "I'm sure. It's okay. Let's do it now."

They spent the afternoon getting rid of the clothes in the wardrobe and bureau. It was hard at first, and Jack found himself teary-eyed a few times, but with her help and encouragement it got easier. He opted to keep his dad's vests, thinking he'd wear them again in the future. 

After stripping the bed of its sheets, Amelia turned her attention to a hope chest in the corner. "What's in this?"

Jack shrugged. "I don't know, I've never looked in it."

She opened it, and laying on top was a hat, top coat with tails, and dress pants. She held them up questioningly to Jack. He nodded. "That's what my father wore when my folks got married."

She laid them on the bed and turned back to the chest, finding next a lacey dress. She slowly lifted it and gasped. "Oh Jack, this is beautiful! Is this your mother's dress from their wedding?"

He nodded, clearing his throat. "Yeah. Guess I didn't realize they'd kept them."

Amelia inspected the dress, admiring the stitching and the handiwork of it. Jack noticed the wistful look on her face. Suddenly he had an idea. "Why don't we wear these for our wedding?"

She looked at him, a big smile on her face. "Jack, that's a fantastic idea! This will need alterations, I think--the waist is a little too narrow, but it should be okay." 

He picked up the coat and inspected it. "I think this will do just fine. May need to let the length out a little on the trousers, but, it should work."

Amelia was clearly beside herself with this discovery. She threw her arms around him, nearly knocking him over. "Oh Jack, this is so great! We can go into town tomorrow and get these all fixed up and get some new sheets for the bed. I'm so excited!" She planted a kiss on his mouth and he laughed. "I can tell. Things sure do seem to be coming together, huh?"

She smiled at him. "I love you, Jack."

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a hug, her head resting under his chin. "I love you too, Amelia."


	9. Coming Together

Jack said, "So, when do we want to have the wedding?" 

Amelia thought for a moment, then pulled back and looked at him. "I'm not sure. In, maybe, a month? I shouldn't be showing too much by then, so I should still fit in the dress okay."

He smiled and placed a hand on her face, making her close her eyes at the warmth of his touch. "Sounds good to me. If you're happy, I'm happy."

"Okay. I'll write a letter to my parents, letting them know the date, so they can be here." She gave him a peck on the cheek then left the room. Jack surveyed the room, now devoid of his parents' things and felt a pang. 

They took the dress and suit to the tailor's the next day, got their measurements, and left them to be amended. They stopped at a restaurant for lunch, and the general store for some new sheets and blankets for the bed, then made their way back to Beecher's Hope. Jack went about his farm chores while Amelia set about setting up the bedroom for them.

A week later Jack picked up the suit and dress while in town on a supply run. On his way out of town he picked up the mail; in it was a letter to Amelia from her mother. Once back home she came out to meet him, excitedly taking the dress and suit from him. As she disappeared into the bedroom with them he carried the groceries into the kitchen, dropping the mail on the dining room table on his way by. After putting all the supplies up, he came back into the living room to find her sitting on the couch, tears in her eyes.

He sat next to her. "What's wrong?"

She sniffled, looking at the letter in her hand. "My mother says my father is refusing to come to the wedding. I knew he was against it, but he's being ridiculous." She rubbed her face and dropped the letter on the coffee table.

He grabbed her hand in his. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Maybe he'll change his mind before the time comes."

She snorted and rolled her eyes. "I doubt it very much. But, we'll see." She wiped her face and smiled weakly at him. "Hey, why don't you go try on your suit and let me see how handsome you look in it."

Putting his hands on his thighs he pushed up off the couch and chuckled. "I can put it on, but I won't make any promises about how I'll look."

She gave him a playful slap. "Just go put it on." 

He disappeared into the bedroom, where she'd laid the suit and dress out on the bed. He looked at the suit, running his fingers on the fabric, across the jacket, the vest, rubbing the tie between his fingers. He remembered his parents' wedding a little; mostly remembered the dancing afterward. It had been a good day.

He put on the suit and finally settled the hat on his head, then checked himself in the mirror in the corner. He was surprised by his reflection--it was almost as if it was his father standing there, looking back at him.

He opened the door and walked out into the living room. Amelia looked up, a big smile lighting her face, then fresh tears sprang to her eyes. "Jack, you look so handsome." She stood and walked over to him, looking him over, running her hands down his chest, smoothing the jacket.

He looked down at her. "So, do you approve?"

She ran her hands up his chest and cupped his face. "Oh, I definitely approve." He lowered his face and kissed her. Then, he said, "Your turn."

She made a face. "They say it's bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding." She paused. "But, you know what? I don't believe in all that. We don't have to worry about anything, as long as we have each other." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, then walked to the bedroom.

He sat on the couch, trying to get comfortable in the suit, fiddling with it. After a few minutes he heard the door open and looked up to see her walking down the hall, and his breath caught. He slowly stood up and stared at her, stricken silent.

She looked down at the dress, running her hands on it. "What? Is something wrong with it? Does it not fit right?"

He slowly approached her, taking in the sight of her. If he thought she was beautiful before, he had no words to describe her now. He felt like he might implode just looking at her. "Darlin', you look...indescribable. None of the words I know really fit. You're so much more than pretty, more than gorgeous, more than beautiful. I...really, can't describe you." He continued looking her over, awestruck.

She laughed and gave him a playful shove. "Come on, you're making me self conscious!"

He reached up and stroked her cheek. "I'm sorry, you're just so damn beautiful." He lowered his face and gently kissed her, his hands roaming around her waist, pulling her in tightly to him. He started working the zipper on the back of the dress when she slapped him away. 

"Now now, let's get changed out of these clothes before we do any damage to them."

He started pulling his jacket off. "Sounds good to me!" 

Amelia giggled and turned to go back to the bedroom, Jack hot on her heels. 

Three weeks later, on a breezy, sunny Saturday, was Jack & Amelia's wedding. Her mother had stayed the night before, preparing the house and food for what sparse amount of guests would be coming. The preacher had arrived, and the wedding was scheduled in less than an hour. Amelia was getting ready in the bedroom, her mother helping her. Jack was dressed, sitting on the couch, twirling his hat in his hands, butterflies in his stomach. He suddenly heard a coach pull up outside. He went out to see who it was--all the invited guests had already arrived. As he walked out onto the porch he was surprised to see Amelia's father walking up the steps. They both stopped when they saw each other.

Jack stepped forward and put his hand out to shake. "Hello, sir. Glad you decided to come."

Mr. Worthington froze for a second, then put his hand out, shaking Jack's. "Well, I'm still not happy about this, but, I would rather be here for my daughter than to miss it. She says she loves you, and, I'll just have to accept it, I guess." Jack's hand was still in his, and he suddenly gripped it tighter and jerked, pulling Jack to within inches of him, making him give out a surprised yelp. "But if you do anything to hurt her, I swear, I will come looking for you." His voice practically dripping with venom. Their faces were inches apart. 

Jack chuckled nervously, but Mr. Worthington's glare remained. "Sir, I can assure you: I love your daughter. More than anything else in this world. I have absolutely no intentions of hurting her whatsoever. You have my word on that."

Mr. Worthington slowly let his hand go and brushed away the creases in Jack's jacket. "Good. I'm glad to hear that."

Jack rubbed his hand, nodding at the house. "Would you like to come in and sit down? Maybe have a drink, or a cigar? I think we have a few minutes before the ceremony starts."

He nodded. "Yes, that'd be fine. I could use a drink." 

While Jack poured them each a brandy Mr. Worthington introduced himself to the guests. Then he sat at the dining room table, and Jack sat down opposite him. As they sipped their brandies, Mrs. Worthington came out of the bedroom. When she spotted her husband, she rushed over to him and hugged him.

"Oh dear, I'm so glad you decided to come! Amelia will be so happy."

Just then the preacher came into the room, announcing it was time for everyone to get into their places. The guests went to the chairs arranged outside. Mrs. Worthington turned to Jack, "Jack, would you go get Amelia? I thought it'd be nice if the two of you walked to the spot together."

He nodded, and went down the hallway and tapped on the bedroom door. As it opened he took a step back, and Amelia stood in the doorway, looking even more beautiful than she had when she'd tried the dress on. 

Tears sprang to his eyes as it fully hit him what they were about to do. He grabbed both of her hands and gently kissed her. "Come on, darlin', let's go get married." 

She hooked her arm around his elbow, and they walked together up to the top of the cliff behind the house where the preacher and the guests waited.


	10. A Renewal

The wedding went off without a hitch. The weather was beautiful; a clear, sunny sky with the sound of the wind in the trees was all Jack could've wanted on this day. That and the beautiful woman at his side.

Everyone was now gathered outside--around the fire, on the gazebo, or at the table that had been set up outside for eating. Loud chatter filled the air, with the occasional mooing from the cows breaking through. Jack stood on the porch, watching everyone, a shot of brandy in his hand. His eyes landed on Amelia, who stood near the gazebo talking to someone. He felt a flush of pride looking at her--he couldn't believe she was his wife. A woman like her? He never would've thought it possible. 

He walked around the front of the house, stopping at his horse, giving him a pat on the neck, then stepped back and looked around at the farm. He had once thought about selling the place. It was like an albatross around his neck and the memories of his parents were stifling. It suddenly occurred to him that it had been awhile since he'd had those moments of paralyzing loneliness and sadness that he used to get at night.

Suddenly Amelia appeared at his elbow, reaching up and pushing a strand of hair away from his face. "Hello, dear. What are you thinking about?"

He took a sip of his drink and smiled at her. "I was thinking about how I wanted to sell this place."

Her smile faltered. "You still want to sell the farm?"

He chuckled. "Actually, I hadn't thought about it in a while. I haven't needed to. I realize now I was just lonely out here. Of course I miss my parents, but, I have you here now. This place needs a family, not just a bachelor. And now, it has one." He caressed her face gently. "So no, I'm not selling the farm. This is our home. And it'll stay that way, for as long as you want it."

She smiled, placing a hand on her belly. "I definitely want it, Jack. I love this farm. We will all be happy here; I have no doubt about that."

He pulled her in, hugging her tightly, and kissed her on the forehead.

They saw all of their guests off, her parents the last to go. She hugged and kissed them goodbye, and they stood on the porch, watching the coach disappear from sight.

Over the next few months they settled into a routine, getting used to being married, learning about each others' idiosyncracies and habits and learning how to live with them. Jack's work on the farm continued day after day, and Amelia started nesting--fastidiously cleaning the whole house every day. 

They had gotten Jack's old room cleaned out and prepared for the new arrival; he had built a cradle by hand, and Amelia was very proud of his work. He would often come into the house and find her standing next to it, humming softly; one hand feeling its smooth varnished sides, her other hand on her belly.

He marveled at her every day, how her body was changing as the baby within her womb grew. She had morning sickness around her third month, which thankfully only lasted for a few weeks. Now she was practically glowing, her belly round under her blouse. He loved to lay in bed at night, lightly rubbing her belly, amazed to feel the baby kicking. It always surprised him and made him laugh.

About six months after the wedding, around her seventh month mark, her mother came to stay with them to see out the end of the pregnancy and to help with the birth. She wouldn't admit it, but Jack could tell she was grateful for her mother's help. Amelia was getting tired very easily these days, losing her breath with the slightest exercise. Her mother took over all of the cooking and cleaning, insisting Amelia take it easy, even ushering her to bed more often than not. 

One day, about a week before Christmas and about three weeks from her due date, Jack came into the house between chores, seeking shelter from the snow that had been falling throughout the day. He removed his boots and gloves, and made his way to the bedroom to find Amelia lying on the bed. He noticed she was breathing heavy and sweating. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

She look at him, a panicky look in her eyes. "Jack, I'm not sure. I think something's wrong. Can you get my mother?"

He rushed out of the room, shouting for Mrs. Worthington, who came into the house from the back porch. "What's wrong?" 

He ushered her quickly to the bedroom. "I don't know. She's sweating, and she thinks something's wrong."

She rushed to her daughter's side, leaning over the bed. "Are you in pain, dear?" 

Amelia gritted her teeth and and moaned, her hands clasping her belly. She nodded. Jack stood in the doorway, his heart in his throat. Mrs. Worthington turned to him and shouted for him to get to town and fetch the doctor.

He'd never pushed his horse so hard. Despite the snow he made it to town in a matter of minutes. Thankfully the doctor was in his office and followed Jack back to Beecher's. As they pulled up outside the house they could hear cries from inside. The doctor went into the house, Jack right behind him, directing him to the bedroom. As the doctor assessed her Jack stood just inside the bedroom doorway, his hands roaming from his hips to his head to his face. He'd never felt so helpless. 

The doctor came over, pushing him out of the room, and spoke to him quietly. "Mr. Marston, your wife is in labor. Her water has broken, but it appears that the baby is breach. That means it's in the wrong position. I'm going to have to help her get it into the right position. This can be a tricky situation and I want you to prepare for the worst, just in case. I'm going to do whatever I can. I need you to wait out here, or go out and get some fresh air, or whatever you need to do. Just please, stay out of the room." The doctor then went back into the room, closing the door behind him. Amelia suddenly let out a loud groan, the likes of which Jack had never heard, and he looked around, raking his hands through his hair, wanting to do something--anything--to help, but knowing there was nothing he could do. He absolutely hated this feeling.

He threw his boots on and trudged away from the house, heading directly east up the hill. When he reached the fence he grabbed it and shook it, screaming with rage and frustration, tears blurring his vision. His hands gripping the fence he leaned down, crying, not knowing what to do with the torrents of fear running through his mind. He didn't know what he'd do if he lost her or the baby. What if he lost both of them?

He turned, putting his back to the fence, and slumped down till he hit the ground then sat there, not caring that he was sitting in six inches of snow, not feeling the cold seeping through his thin pants. He sat, looking up at the sky, silently pleading with God or whoever would listen to please let her get through this, to let him have his wife and baby, surely it wouldn't be a big deal for him to keep them? That was all he asked, just please, just please let me keep them.

He sat there for a while, not knowing how much time had passed, not knowing anything else going on in the world.

Suddenly he heard his name being shouted--Mrs. Worthington was on the porch calling him. He got up and sprinted back to the house. As he got close she motioned him inside where the doctor met him at the door and she disappeared into the bedroom.

"Mr. Marston, your wife is resting. We did successfully get the baby turned around and delivered normally. But, I must warn you, your wife lost a lot of blood. It will be touch and go for her for a while. I have left her medicine and directions for taking it by the bed. If you need me, you know where to find me." And with that, he left.

Jack stood looking at the bedroom door, his hand on his mouth, trying to process everything. Slowly he opened the door, saw Mrs. Worthington standing on the other side of the bed, holding a small bundle, and Amelia lying on the bed, motionless. Mrs. Worthington walked over to him, speaking quietly. "She's asleep. She'll be okay, I think." She held the bundle out to him. "Would you like to hold your daughter?"

He looked down, seeing a small, scrunched up face peeking out from the blanket. He looked up at her. "My daugher?" 

She smiled and nodded. "My granddaughter. She's beautiful."

She gently placed her in his arms. He stared at her. She was indeed very beautiful. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a couple weeks later, and Amelia had recuperated enough to be out of bed and move around the house. Her mother was still staying with them and was refusing to let Amelia do any work around the house. All she let her do was tend to the baby.

She sat on their bed, gently rocking her, when Jack came into the room. He sat next to her, watching them both. 

Amelia smiled at him. "I can't get over how perfect she is, Jack." She brushed her tiny hand with a finger. "I mean, look at these little hands. These little toes. These fat little cheeks. We made this, you and I. It's so astonishing." 

Jack looked at her admiringly. "Yeah, she is pretty perfect. What are we going to name her?"

Amelia held her finger against her hand, letting her wrap her tiny fingers around it. "You know, I've been thinking about that." She looked at Jack. "What do you think about Abigail, after your mother?"

He smiled, gently rubbing his hand across his daughter's head. "I love that idea. It's perfect. Just like her." Then he reached over and kissed Amelia on her head. "And just like you. I love you. Both of you. You both mean so much to me."

She smiled at him. "I love you."

He pressed his head against hers, and the rest of the world faded away around them. All that mattered now was Jack, Amelia, and their precious daughter, Abigail.


	11. Epilogue

It was a sunny summer day as Jack brought the wagon to a stop next to the general store. Blackwater was buzzing today--the beautiful weather bringing everyone out to enjoy it. He stepped down from the seat, nodding to a passing stranger, then reached up, picking little Abigail up under her arms and placing her carefully on the sidewalk. She was four now, looking more and more like her mother every day. He loved bringing her to town with him on his supply runs; he liked to buy her little toys or candies. Amelia said he shouldn't do that, that he'd spoil her, but he didn't care. He wanted to buy her everything her heart desired, no matter what.

He reached down, taking her hand in his, and said, "Come on, sweetie, we gotta go into the store. Let's see what goodies they got." They entered the store, the bell above the door jangling, signalling their entrance to the owner, who turned their direction, a smile lighting his face. "Hey Jack! And Abigail, how's this sweet little lady today?" 

Abigail toddled up to the counter, grabbing onto the edge, standing on her tiptoes, and peeking up at him. "Hi Mr. Simons."

Jack walked up behind her. "Abigail would like a little something, wouldn't you, Abby?" She nodded exuberantly.

Mr. Simons laughed. "Well, let's see what we got back here." He bent down, rummaging around under the counter, then came up with a piece of candy. He handed it to her and she happily scooped it up.

Jack said, "That'll keep her busy while we get my supplies loaded up."

Mr. Simons came out from behind the counter. "I'll get your packages out of the back room." Then he disappeared behind a door.

Jack browsed the shelves, picking up various provisions and setting them on the counter while keeping an eye on Abigail, who had discovered a display of dolls. 

Mr. Simons had taken packages out to the wagon and had come back inside, and rang up the goods on the counter. Then he bagged them up and handed them to Jack. Jack thanked him, called for Abigail, and left the store with her right behind him. He stowed the bag in the wagon, then lifted her up onto the seat and climbed up beside her. He gave the horse a light switch of the reins, and they rode back to Beecher's Hope.

Once back home he stopped the wagon by the house, climbed down, then lifted Abigail from the seat. She ran onto the porch as Amelia came out of the house, who scooped her up, planting kisses on her face. He gathered up the packages and bags, and climbed the steps. Amelia put Abigail down, who disappeared inside the house. "Hi Honey, did you get everything?" she said, as she took a bag out of his hands. Following her into the house, he looked at all of the packages in his hands. "I think so. It looks that way."

As they entered the kitchen she set the bag down on the table, then leaned against it, hanging her head and sighing. Jack approached her, concern on his face. "You feeling okay, sweetheart?" 

She shook her head. "I'm not sure. Been feeling a little weak and nauseated lately."

He looked at her. "You look a little pale. Maybe you should see the doctor. Should I fetch him?"

She smiled, and sat in a chair against the wall. "I'm okay for now. It usually passes after a few minutes. Maybe I'll go in tomorrow and see him."

He nodded. "That'd be a good idea. You rest, I'll put the rest of the stuff away."

Patting his hand, she replied, "Thank you, Jack."

The next day while Amelia went off to the doctor Jack went about his chores, little Abigail keeping herself busy by chasing the chickens. He was taking a break, leading Abigail around on one of the horses when Amelia rode up to the house. He smiled at Abigail. "Oh, baby, looks who's back." He lifted Abigail off the horse and she ran right into her mother's arms. Amelia leaned down, hugging her tight. 

"So?" Jack asked. "What'd the doctor say?"

She straightened and gave a small laugh. "Well, honestly, I feel a little stupid. I should've seen this coming, I don't know how I didn't."

Jack looked at her quizzically. "Honey, what are you talking about?"

Smiling, she shook her head. "Jack, I'm pregnant."


End file.
